Under the Mistletoe
by garden lover
Summary: Christmas ficlet. Éponine is standing under the mistletoe and Marius is not kissing her. Éponine/Marius/Cosette. Modern AU.


Éponine was starting to regret coming to the party.

Well, no. To be honest, she had been regretting it ever since Grantaire had convinced her to come. Seeing Marius walk in hand in hand with Cosette had only clichéd the matter.

At least the drinks were good. Courfeyrac's parents thought that a case of expensive champagne was an appropriate Christmas gift and Courfeyrac thought the best thing to do was serve it at his Christmas party

Or winter party. Or non-denominational holiday party. Or Hogswatch night party. Éponine had lost track of the discussion at some point. Courfeyrac had finally settled the matter in the last group e-mail with "It's a party. There will be booze and food and gifts because we're all friends and like each other. So you better enjoy yourselves."

Éponine took another sip of champagne and groaned. Marius had seen her. He was walking in her direction, Cosette trailing behind him, holding her own glass of champagne. It wasn't that she didn't like the girl - it was impossible not to. She would just rather not have the happy couple's bliss shoved in her face at every opportunity.

"Éponine! Merry Christmas! Or, er, happy Holidays," Marius said.

"And a happy New Year," Éponine responded, before he got more flushed.

"I'll drink to that." Cosette raised her glass and drained about half of its contents. "Oh, that's good!"

"Courfeyrac's family owns a vineyard," Éponine told her, "You should try the wine he gets for his birthday."

"I'll stick around for that, thanks." Cosette smiled at her. It was a radiant smile, because Cosette's smiles were always radiant and lighted in everyone around her.

If Éponine were so inclined, she could come up with some heavy-handed metaphor about Marius and Cosette being the light and she being stuck in shadows, but it would be false. Because she felt warm and illuminated too. And these metaphors were stupid.

That was also a heavy-handed metaphor, so she decided to return her focus to the champagne.

She half listened as Marius told Cosette about Courfeyrac's property. Cosette, bless her, was listening attentively. Éponine was sure she wouldn't manage as well. She would get distracted and change the subject, leaving Marius worried he was boring her and feelings hurt all around.

No. Marius and Cosette were the perfect couple. Marius and Éponine were not.

Éponine decided to go be bitter somewhere else. Preferably alone. There was no use in ruining everyone's holiday cheer.

She hadn't walked two steps before Grantaire suddenly grabbed her. "Éponine! You're standing under the mistletoe!" He laid a smooch in her the cheek and walked away with her glass.

Éponine was too stunned to move for a moment. "That's my glass," she mumbled. She was going to miss it. It had been full of delicious and expensive alcohol.

Well, it had been earlier. Not so much now. She should get another one.

Marius and Cosette were at her side again.

"You are standing under the mistletoe," Cosette beamed.

Éponine looked up. There was a twig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, because, in addiction to booze and food, Courfeyrac always offered sexual innuendo at his parties. "Hope the nargles don't get me, then."

Cosette giggled, showing she got the reference. Marius didn't.

"Nargles?" he asked, confused. Honestly, sometimes Éponine didn't understand how she could be in love with him. The guy was a dork.

And yes, she was the one making obscure Harry Potter references. That Cosette understood. Maybe they could all be dorks together.

Cosette was poking Marius. "Don't you know what mistletoe is for?"

Any of the other guys at the party would have kissed Éponine and made a joke about it. But not Marius. No, Éponine knew him well enough to see he was stuck between "I can't kiss another girl in front of my girlfriend" and "If I don't, she might think there's a reason not to".

It was ridiculous. The awkward moment extended forever and ever. Or a few seconds. It was probably just a few seconds.

Éponine sighed. "It's a ridiculous tradition anyway."

She started to move away, but Cosette grabbed her arm and stopped her. "No, it's not." She shoved her glass into Marius' hands and kissed Éponine.

Properly kissed her. She tasted of champagne and smelled of vanilla and, before she realized, Éponine was kissing back. It went on for a long time. Or a few seconds.

But they were good seconds.

"I think it's a brilliant tradition," Cosette said, when she pulled away. She was standing, and smiling, very close.

Éponine didn't do weak at the knees. If she did, she might not be standing up right now.

She did speechless, though, because, apparently, she couldn't muster more than a mumble of agreement. She hoped Cosette understood that.

Someone wolf-whistled in the distance. Grantaire appeared suddenly, again, and dropped an arm around Marius' shoulders. "Marius, my boy," he drawled, "I think you are in deep trouble."

"No, he's not," Cosette said, retrieving her glass, "he just needed a little encouragement. Isn't that right?"

Marius didn't answer her. He was staring at Éponine.

He had been staring at her for a while.

Éponine wasn't the blushing type either, but she might have blushed a little when Marius stepped forward and held her hand. And a bit more when he leaned in for a kiss.

Well, she could always blame the champagne, right?


End file.
